


When your Heart Beats

by Mevie



Series: Like a Virgin [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Desk Sex, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Smut, Steve's Pov, Topping from the Bottom, little bit of rimming... like blink and miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27976953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mevie/pseuds/Mevie
Summary: Billy looked him up and down, pink tongue once again peeking out between closed lips. The rain had flattened his curls, limp blonde hair sticking to his forehead and the side of his face. Steve wanted to lick the freckles that stood out sharply on his cheeks.“You in the mood now?” Billy asked, his trademark smirk growing slowly across his face, like he had read Steve’s thoughts.Continuation from Part 1 but can probably be read as a stand alone.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Like a Virgin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014666
Comments: 3
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who welcomed me back so warmly! I'm still trying to dust away those cobwebs so please feel free to yell at me about any mistakes you might find.  
> I'm pretty sure this can be read as a stand alone, it's a fairly self-explanatory little-to-no-plot smut, which is one of the reason I set it out like this. This part ended up being way longer than originally planned so it's been split over two chapters.

As a teen, spending weeks on his own was the dream. His parents would leave him alone for two or three weeks at a time, with enough money to order take out every night and strict instructions to call his Aunt should he run into trouble.

The slip of paper with her number written carefully in his Moms neat handwriting went straight into the garbage the moment his parent’s car had left the street. Instead he did all those classic, ridiculous things that every single teenage magazine and pop band told him he should. He organised parties, stayed up late watching horror movies, stuffed himself full of candy and shit food and most importantly, always had company.

Tommy stayed over almost every night, occasionally joined by Carol, and on the days they didn’t the three of them would drive around the neighbourhood, windows rolled down and belting out Eye of the Tiger from the top of their lungs. They would park up in the school parking lot and drink wine coolers and stolen beer until one of them threw up.

Just normal, typical teenage bullshit.

One night they had over 30 of his classmates round, people dropping onto every surface at around 4am to finally sleep. Steve had been the talk of the school for weeks after. The King of the halls.

He had loved it.

Relished it.

He had done his first keg ever on the patio by the side of his pool that night.

But things changed, and people changed.

He had changed.

Tommy didn’t return his calls anymore.

And fuck, Steve would admit that every bone in his body ached for that Steve, ached to be him again. To not give a crap about anything.

Nowadays he was lucky if he didn’t check he had locked the windows and doors twelve times.

Nowadays he was lucky if Nancy and Jonathan popped round to see him for more than hour.

Nowadays he was lucky to talk to anyone at all.

He hated the silence the most. That unavoidable nothingness that spread across everything and soaked into every corner of his home. Turning the radio on never seemed to help, having the TV turned up to full volume did not help either. He made pointless calls to Robin to talk about work even though he had spent most of the day with her. He phoned Dustin almost every night, just to hear another person’s voice, but now Dustin had left for camp and Robin had told him to stop calling until he came up with something interesting to speak about and the silence roared and pressed in at him from all sides until he felt like he would drown.

But tonight, the silence was suddenly broken by a knocking.

Pausing just for a moment, a vision of monsters dancing behind his eyes, he got up and answered. Monsters would not have knocked, he figured, and somebody would have warned him if something big was happening.

Besides, it was barely 4pm. If horror movies had taught him anything it was that nobody ever died before the streetlights kicked in.

There may have been a storm erupting outside but it felt more Sylvia Plath than Stephen King.

He found Billy stood there, smoke billowing out of his nostrils and his tongue wagging across pomegranate colored lips. He was soaked down to the bone, half buttoned white shirt now see through from the rain that pounded against the pavement.

“Took your time Harrington.”

Steve shrugged and leaned casually against the door frame, trying to appear cooler than he felt. “My mom taught me not to open the doors to strangers.”

“Clearly she didn’t teach you enough, you fucking idiot. I take it you're still home alone? Let me in Goldilocks, before I huff and puff and blow your doors in.”

“You’ve mixed up your fairy tales.”

“Does it fucking matter,” he tried to take a pull of a cigarette, but the rainwater had doused the cherry, making the end soggy and useless. He threw it onto Steve’s doorstep. “Would you fucking let me in before I drown.”

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Please.”

He eased out of the way letting a bedraggled Billy move pass him, his leather jacket squeaking as he walked.

As he closed the door softly, he caught sight of his driveway, dark and thankfully monster-free, his own BMW sitting forlornly.

“Did you walk here?”

“Just from Heather’s house.”

Steve stiffened, something like resentment spreading unchecked through his veins.

“I didn’t realise the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not. Why? Not jealous are you Princess?”

White hot indignation rose up from his stomach. He was not sure what annoyed him more, that Billy was right or that Billy had worked him out so quickly. He picked at a loose thread on the hem of his red t-shirt.

“Of Heather? God no.”

“Sound jealous to me Harrington.”

“See, for me to be jealous of Heather it would mean there was something going on between us. But there isn’t, because every time I tried to fucking talk to you, you ran off dude.”

Steve had tried, humiliatingly he tried, tracking him down just a few days after they had had sex, and casually waiting outside his place of work like he often hung around outside closed community pools. Billy had taken one look at him before scuttling off to his car like some large two-legged crab, Heather Holloway following behind him with a bemused expression. She got into his car like it was something she frequently did, like he often gave her lifts home, like she was more than just a random work colleague. Steve had stamped his feet and sulked for a solid half hour before his brain caught up with a sharp douse of mortification, reminding him that was not how you were meant to act with a casual fling.

Nor was it how nineteen-year-old boys were supposed to act. Even if that nineteen year old boy had homoerotic tendencies, a completely average IQ and deep rooted feelings of inadequacy.

Fuck, he had spent too much time with Robin.

“The other week was like… a one-night stand or a booty call, we don’t need to chat about it.”

“Booty calls work both ways, Asshole. Maybe I was in the mood to get some.”

Billy looked him up and down, pink tongue once again peeking out between closed lips. The rain had flattened his curls, limp blonde hair sticking to his forehead and the side of his face. Steve wanted to lick the freckles that stood out sharply on his cheeks.

“You in the mood now?” Billy asked, his trademark smirk growing slowly across his face, like he had read Steve’s thoughts.

“Hmm, go back and ask Heather.”

Billy threw his arms up and hollered “And the bitch bites back!”

“Go suck a dick, you cun-“ was all he managed to spit out angrily before Billy’s mouth hit his. Steve rocked back on his heels, before bringing his hands up and cupping Billy’s face, holding him steady. He pressed himself against the slightly shorter figure, Billy’s arms coming around his body to the back of his neck and running shaky fingers through his hair.  
  
“I’d rather you sucked mine.” Billy whispered against his lips.  
  
Steve groaned and deepened the kiss, tongue running across Billy’s bottom lip, asking his permission to thrust it in. It was worrying how swiftly Billy could get him from 0 to 60 with just a cocky smile and a single sentence.

He opened his mouth wide, the hands still buried in his hair tightening into fists, needy rather than possessive.  
  
They slid their tongues against each other, dualling for dominance. If anybody ever asked, Steve would tell them he let Billy win just to hear the breathy little moan he made.  
  
As they broke away, panting slightly, Steve went down to his knees, eyes never leaving Billy’s. He reached up with steady hands and unbuttoned Billy’s jeans, pulling them down slowly. Billy was wearing those horrendous off-white boxer shorts again. Steve pulled a disgusted face even as his dick went rock hard at the memory of their previous encounter, and he pulled them down to pool around Billy’s feet with his jeans.  
  
His stiff cock sprang forward, and Steve’s confidence withered and died. He bit his lip and stared at it.  
  
He knew the mechanics of how this was meant to go, he had experienced enough blow jobs in his chequered past, but ‘knowing’ and ‘doing’ were two different things and Steve suddenly found his mouth going dry.  
  
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want too.”  
  
Steve glanced up and smiled playfully, roughly taking Billy’s aching cock in hand. This caring side of Billy that seemed to appear every time they did anything remotely sexual was making his heart do things that Steve did not want to focus too much on. He focused instead on the task at hand. Or the cock at hand, he thought with a leer.  
  
For some reason it was important to not let Billy see he was nervous.  
  
Fake it ‘til you make it Harrington.  
  
He lent forward and then stopped.  
  
“Are you kidding me? You can’t wear nicer underwear, but you can put perfume on your dick?”  
  
“It’s cologne Asshole, and it’s not on my dick.”  
  
Steve scoffed before wrapping his lips around the tip of Billy’s cock and giving an experimental suck, ignoring the strong smell and taste of whatever cheap cologne Billy had soaked his privates in. Billy gasped and arched forward, his cock slipping so far into Steve’s mouth that it went down the back of his throat. He gagged and pulled himself off.  
  
“What the hell dude?”  
  
“Fuck I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Didn’t mean to do that. I’ll be careful next time Baby.” Billy said softly, hand smoothing gently over his head.  
  
Steve’s cock jumped, straining against his own jeans.  
  
“No. Don’t.”  
  
Billy let out a quiet, growling sound deep in his throat. He grabbed him by the back of his neck and pushed him back down. Not too forcefully, not hard enough that Steve could not have broken free with minimal effort, but just enough for Steve to know that Billy liked to play rough just as much as he did.  
  
It was getting increasingly hard to breathe as he sucked and pulled. Billy thrusting so hard and fast into his mouth that he barely had time to draw breath. He focused all his attention on just trying to keep his teeth out of the way. Billy put his hands in his hair, massaging his scalp and pulling at the strands brutally. God, he loved that. Loved the feeling of Billy playing with his hair. It scorched all the neurons he had left in his brain.  
  
He pulled off slightly to run his tongue over the head of Billy’s cock, dancing over his slit, Billy’s head rolling back and his mouth opening wide.  
  
“Oh yeah Baby, that’s good.”  
  
The praise filled him with warmth, encouraging him to take the whole of Billy back into his mouth almost all the way down his throat, sucking hard and slurping at the pre-cum.  
  
Billy grunted his name, trying to warn him as his hands tightened and he came suddenly with a shout, seed spilling down Steve’s throat. He didn’t immediately panic as it filled his mouth, swallowing as quickly as he could even as it became too much, spilling from his lips. He pulled away choking, spitting the remaining blobs to the floor and rocking back onto his heels.  
  
Jesus fucking Christ, this guy had no stamina. “Fuck me, you are terrible. Are you incapable of lasting for like, longer than 10 minutes dude.” He said, his voice gruff and his breathing ragged. He pulled up the hem of his tshirt and used it to wipe his face. Billy watched him with half-closed eyes, his hands still twitching from aftershocks. He let out a noise that could be misconstrued as an apology.  
  
Steve glanced up at Billy, still trying to wipe away the come from his chin and neck. He stopped when Billy bent down and pulled him up, smashing their mouth’s together in a bruising kiss and chasing the last remnants of his seed from behind Steve’s teeth. They broke away with a loud pop.  
  
“It’s your fault for being a good little cock-sucker.”  
  
The asshole had said something similar last time.  
  
Billy bent down to pull up his jeans and underwear, releasing Steve as he rummaged through the pockets to retrieve a bottle of lube. He tapped Steve’s chin with it. “Your turn Pretty Boy.”  
  
He took Steve by the hand and tried to lead him upstairs, but Steve stopped and glanced down. They were holding hands, full on holding hands, like a couple would. Steve had a bright vision of the two of them going somewhere and doing it in public before Billy suddenly released him and snatched his hand away like Steve had burned him.  
  
“Come on Dickweed.”  
  
Steve shook his head, trying to rid his mind of shared milkshakes and romantic trips to the beach and all those other ridiculous things that couples did that he would never get to experience with Billy because that’s not what Billy wanted.  
  
Fuck buddies. That was what Billy wanted. That was what they were. Secret gay fuck buddies.  
  
He was ok with that. He could do that.  
  
“I have a better idea baby,” he said, in the smoothest tone he could manage. The tone that usually got him what he wanted, the one that had worked with every other girl he had been with.

Billy wanted no strings attached sex; he would get it.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *Splits into two chapters to make formatting easier*  
> Also Me: *Loses confidence, spends several days distracting herself by playing The Sims, forgets to post rest*

He took Billy’s hand again and pulled him in the opposite direction, away from the stairs and towards his Dad’s office.

The door hinges creaked from disuse as he opened it, echoing slightly through the quiet house. The door had almost always been permanently shut most of Steve’s life, whether Steve’s Dad had been in there or not. He supposed that should make him feel something – resentment or anger, maybe even sadness towards his Dad but he couldn’t. Not anymore. He had stopped giving a shit a long time ago.

He held tighter to Billy’s hand as he tried to pull away, flicking the light on with his free hand and then closing the door.

He pulled him to the centre of the room before finally letting go to lean his back against the edge of the desk, fingers spread across its polished surface and legs crossed at his ankles. He gestured around him.

“Welcome to my Dad’s domain.”

Billy glanced around the wood panelled room, eyes lingering at the floor to ceiling mirror and the large oak desk sitting in front of it. His brow furred in confusion. “There’s no bed in here Harrington.”

Steve smiled mischievously. “Well ain’t you smart.” He uncrossed his ankles and sat fully on the desk, allowing his knees to fall open, his semi-hard cock obvious through his pants. “My Dad has a strict no entry policy when it comes to this room. He would hit the ceiling if he knew we were in here, and he would fucking _murder me_ if he knew what we were about to do in here.” Probably cut his body into little pieces too. Tell the authorities he had run off to join a circus. He wondered if Billy would mourn. His smile widened. “But here’s the thing Billy, I’ve always had a dream about fucking somebody over this desk, and today I would like you to help me fulfil that dream.”

Billy raised his eyebrows, glancing down at Steve’s lap and walking slowly towards him. His expression was complicated. “That so, huh? Fancy yourself as a bit of rebel? Ready to make Daddy mad? When’s the bastard due back?”

“Oh. He’s not. I mean, he is, but like, not for a few more days. He and Mom are skiing in Italy.”

Billy stopped in front of him, placing his hands on the table, bracketing Steve’s hips. “And you didn’t fancy going?”

“Wasn’t invited.” He hadn’t been invited since he was thirteen and had told his parents to fuck off and let him live his life. The old man could hold a grudge. “Can’t stand skiing anyway.”

“So, no actual risk of you – _of us_ , getting caught?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Jesus Billy don’t ruin the fantasy. Did you really think I would have sucked you off in the hallway if my parents were going to walk through the door at any minute?” He would never have risked being fucked by Billy in his bedroom either.

“Seem like the type of guy who gets his kicks out of being caught.”

Well yeah, that wasn’t entirely untrue. There were one or two memories of close calls filed away in his spank bank – not that Billy needed to know that – sure, he was just a horny fucker, but he also wasn’t a stupid one.

He brought his hand up to brush Billy’s damp hair away from his face, catching slightly on his long pale eyelashes. It was dangerous, to be this close to him. Steve could easily get lost in the deep ocean of his eyes. “Well? Are you up for it, yes or no?”

He let out a squeak when Billy suddenly grabbed him by his t-shirt with both hands and pulled him of the table. He turned them both so that Steve now had his back to the door and Billy had his ass on the table edge. Steve’s blood sizzled in his veins, lust spreading through his body like lava.

“Oh, I’m up for it you kinky little bitch. But we’re going to do it my way. You follow my orders. Understand?”

Steve nodded.

Billy handed him the lube, fingertips lingering for just a fraction of a second on the back of Steve’s hand and then placed a small gentle kiss to his lips. He took his jacket off and threw it into the corner of the room, followed by his damp shirt. He then toed of his boots and turned around, his back to Steve.

“Pull my jeans down, and then yours.”

“You couldn’t do that yourself?”

“Now.”

Steve pulled Billy’s still unbuttoned pants down exposing his buttocks, the small burn scar was still there, marring the back of Billy’s sun-kissed thigh. Steve ran his fingers over it gently, as though trying to smooth away the memory of the pain.

“What-“ he started to ask, but Billy shushed him and handed him the lube.

“Following orders, remember Pretty Boy.”

He was watching Steve through the large mirror, fingers sprayed across the tabletop in the same manner that Steve’s had been. Steve fumbled with his own zipper, trying and failing to undo his jeans with one hand. The nerves were back, fogging up his mind and making hands clumsy.

Billy snorted and called him an idiot, his eyes fixed on the blush now turning Steve’s face red. Steve awkwardly put the lube on the floor and pulled his underwear and jeans of in one fluid movement, kicking them aside. His head got caught as he pulled his tshirt off and threw it in the same direction that Billy had tossed his.

“Grease me up.”

Well, if that wasn’t the most unsexist way to put it.

He stopped to laugh at Billy’s reflection in the mirror, becoming almost giddy when Billy smiled back.

He stepped close to Billy and rubbed the side of his head along his shoulder blade, placing small kisses to the back of his neck, watching his reaction in the mirror. Billy stiffened before relaxing, letting his head drop forward to give Steve better access. He kissed his way up the side of Billy’s face, taking his earlobe between his teeth and sucking gently. “You need to improve on your orders,” he whispered into his ear. “Otherwise I’m just going to completely ignore you.”

“You’re a brat Harrington.”

“So are you Billy.”

“Oh no,” He grabbed Steve’s arms and brought them forward, placing his hands onto the table and his own over the top, pining them down painfully. They were larger than Steve’s, browned from days sitting on the Lifeguard chair in the sun. The new position brought them close, lower halves touching. He knocked Steve’s head away, and thrusted his ass backwards, teasing at Steve’s exposed cock. “You’re the brat, and you’re going to do exactly as you’re told.” He let go and pushed Steve back with his elbow.

Steve pouted and went down hard onto his knees, he reached up and ran his fingers over a small patch of Billy’s back, teasing at his crease. He wanted to eat him. Just get his teeth into the fleshy parts of those cheeks and bite, and then smooth over the red mark gently with his tongue. “Is this what you wanted?” He leaned forward and peppered his skin with small kisses, nipping lightly. “Is this how you wanted me?”

“Yes,” Billy moaned out, cock already hard again and dripping pre-cum against the desk.

Steve made a little sound like a purr, burying his face between Billy’s cheeks, lapping at the ring of muscle. He had never done this before; it was a foolish move on his part. He could feel Billy trembling as he pushed his tongue in and out, could see the sheen of sweat on his skin, he smiled at the fact that he was the one causing it.

He pulled away and slicked his fingers, rocking back on his heels to stand at his full height.

The first finger was easy enough, Billy murmuring soft encouragements as he slid in slowly. When he finally added the second one, pressing in even slower, Billy groaned long and loud. He had worried, at first, that perhaps he had done something wrong. He was trying to be gentle, to show Billy how good he could be, but Billy only groaned louder as he started to pump his fingers.

Fuck, he wanted to go fast and hard just to make him scream. Just to see how loud he could make him cry out from pleasure. Maybe it would prove to him that Steve was worth it. That _this_ was all worth it. Worth enough to maybe want to do it again, to carry it on.

Perhaps, turn it into something more.

Fuck, he needed to stop thinking about the fairytale-happy-ever-after bullshit. It was getting harder and harder to convince himself that that was not what he wanted.

He pulled his fingers out and pushed Billy further down so that his stomach lay across the table, arms automatically stretching out to grip the other side of the desk. Billy’s head was up, staring at him through the mirror, pupils dilated, cock hard against the table edge and skin flushed a beautiful rosy pink.

“Ready?”

“Fucking hell, yes Harrington.”

Steve wrapped one arm around Billy’s waist, holding his cock in his other hand and guided it between Billy’s cheeks. Billy’s back arched as he pushed in, panting slightly at the stretch.

He eased in slowly, listening to Billy’s muffled cries, ready to stop at the first sign of discomfort, Billy’s hands were turning white from the tight grip that he had on the desk but he growled when Steve asked if he wanted him to pull out. He stopped completely when he bottomed out, just waiting, resting his head on Billy’s shoulder. He was so warm and tight, the skin of his neck smelling of a heavy mixture of his own cologne and Steve’s eye wateringly expensive brand.

“Move, Harrington,” Billy said, rocking back after a few breaths and trying to force Steve backward. “I don’t need you to treat me like a little bitch.”

“I’m not trying to treat you like a bitch Billy, I’m trying to treat you right,” Steve whispered into his skin, so quietly that he was not sure if Billy had heard him.

He pulled out gradually, slamming his hips forward again, the desk screeching slightly as it was shoved backwards. Billy squeezed around him, hot and tight and so good. He released one hand from the table to sneak down and wrap around his leaking cock.

Steve built up a rhythm, Billy pushing back to meet each thrust, Steve’s hands holding on tight enough to his hips to form bruises. It was better than he had imagined, better than the fantasies he had spent weeks building in his head.

They both suddenly cried out, Steve hitting that special bundle of nerves as he fucked into him at a steady pace. Billy’s hand almost a blur as it pumped in time with Steve’s thrusts.

“Oh God Billy, you feel so good.”

He would never have a go at Billy for not lasting again, because he was so close. So dangerously close.

“Look at you,” Billy said, and Steve looked up to meet his eyes in the mirror. “You’re so close, I can tell. Come for me Baby, let me see you make that face again.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to slow his building orgasm, but Billy just tightened around him in response and it all felt so right, so perfectly right and complete and _hot_.

He let out a string of swear words as the first rope of cum squirted inside Billy, pulling out to pulse the rest over the back of the desk and across Billy’s thighs, Billy gave a shout as he did the same, painting the desk and the floor. They both stilled, panting into the silence as they came down from their high, staring at the mess.

He pulled away, letting go of Billy completely and watching him sink down the floor to sit crossed legged. He pulled a few tissues from a box on the desk, using one to wipe himself and then handing the rest to Billy to do the same. He eased his shaking body down to sit next to him, trying to hide his now spent cock with his hand, suddenly embarrassed at their lack of clothes.

“Not bad for your first attempt with a dude,” Billy said, he threw the soiled tissue behind him, and reached over to pull his jacket towards him. His hair was a mess of curls, sitting on top of his head like a bird’s nest. He took out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, placing one to his lips.

“You can’t smoke in here,” Steve said sharply, pointing up at the smoke alarm. “Go outside. Or my room if you don’t want to stand out in the rain.”

They were both still breathing heavily, skin flushed and sticky. The table had left an imprint across Billy’s stomach.

“Ah, Steve’s little rebellion against Daddy is over now, huh?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Nah, you just did that for me.” Billy stood up, raising his arms above his head and stretching, he grabbed his discarded clothes and started putting them on. “Guess that’s that then. Guess I’ll see you around.”

Jesus, he knew Billy said he liked to fuck and go but give a chance to get his heartrate back to normal.

“Wait no,” Steve scrambled to his feet. “Stay this time. Please. I’ll order us some pizza or something. I just,” He paused to swallow down his embarrassment at sounding so needy. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

There seemed to Steve, an internal argument going on inside Billy. His top lip curled into a sneer and then turned down into a frown, his eye’s darted from Steve to the clock and then back again, his hands clenching and unclenching like a dying spider. He finally dropped his hunched shoulders and let out a sigh. “Yeah, sure, pizza sounds great.”

Oh.

He had expected more of a fight.

They both got dressed awkwardly, Steve shooting glances at Billy every few minutes, waiting for the moment he turned around and said fuck it and left.

It never came.

Instead, Billy left Steve standing in his father’s office, footsteps padding back softly through the foyer and to the living room, where the couch protested when he threw himself on to it. Steve made one last look at his father’s desk, wondering whether he should clean it up or do it later, before following with a satisfied grin. Seeing it so ruined made him feel good. Steve’s Little Rebellion was still in full swing, thank you very much.

“I didn’t know you like to read,” Billy said as Steve entered. He was sitting on the couch with his socked feet resting on the coffee table, a pile of books pulled to within arms reach. “Smarter than you look Harrington, if this is the sort of shit you’re into.”

“Oh. I don’t. I, eh, I’m not, not really. I was moaning about being bored so Nancy dropped them round.”

It was nice of her. To think of him. Also, frustrating, because she clearly didn’t know him at all. He had tried to read them, really _really_ tried, but not a single one had held his attention for longer than a few minutes.

The comic books generously donated by Mike had made a better impact.

Billy stroked the glossy cover of The Bell Jar, looking longingly at its embossed cover.

“You can borrow it if you want. I never made it pass the first few chapters.” Steve admitted, rubbing his neck self-consciously. “You can fill me in on the story next time we- eh, I mean, next time you see me.”

“Thanks Steve,” Billy smiled at him shyly, looking young and small and nothing like the son of a bitch who had whooped his ass not that long ago. He placed the book next to him, guarding it like a mother bird protecting her nest.

Which he could be, to be honest, judging from the state of his hair. Steve self-consciously ran his fingers through his own.

“So what pizza are we getting Harrington, keep in mind that if it isn’t a pepperoni then I’m walking.”

Steve pulled a face and swore, making gagging noises as Billy sat up straight to argue back.

It felt so familiar, so comfortable that Steve felt his longing for ‘Old Steve’ abate a little.

He let Billy get the pepperoni.


End file.
